Running Dreams
by solstice lilika
Summary: Your favorite male character, no seriously, which ever male character you like, it's about him. Read and find out!
1. Chapter 1

Running Dreams

I've always been told that dreams are where you go to escape reality and live in fantasy. I've believed that for as long as I can remember, until now. My dreams have become a series of horror movies, and I'm the first one to die. Yet I never do, I always come back for more. I can't sleep anymore, it's the one place I fear the most, my head. All I can see feel are my short comings, the person I wanted to be, _planned_ to be and failed to do so... I'm so tired and so scared of who I am. It's gotten to the point where I can't look in a mirror with out cringing, and no one sees it, what I do. It's in my eyes, pools of darkness, sorrow. What is this? Who am I?

The leather binding is soft, it's feels cool against my skin, and I wonder, do I deserve to be in this book? I flip the pages, it's all pictures of me before her, when I was happy... alive. I can't stand the constant thumping in my chest, I want it to stop, I want my heart to stop beating, beating for her, for a love that never was and never will be. I can't take it, the memories so I close the book and set it back down...

The flames are alive, like my dreams, they burn the book; burn what I used to be. And it feels good; it's a closure I desperately needed. But I can still feel the palpitations in my chest, it was supposed to stop. I was supposed to die in those flames, I don't feel anymore, I'm a monster, I was never meant to have a heart. I can feel my blood rushing through my veins, waves of red sea sifting through me. And every wave hurts, more and more with a growing intensity. What can I do to stop it? Who do I have to be to stop it? I changed, I'm not longer happy, isn't that enough. I've burnt my memories, erased a past. It never existed.

My walls are bare, no frames, no paintings, no color. Just blank, blank like my mind, nothing there to fill me up, I'm empty and I don't know whether I like it or not. I suppose that's what I'm meant to feel; emptiness. My dreams don't haunt me anymore, when I sleep, all that's there is vast sea of black. But sometimes colors shoot through my head, neon pinks, yellows, greens, purples, blues, like fire works. And I know, I know I'm still living, but its different now. I don't have this continuous pain stabbing at me. All those colors bring me peace... When I wake, it doesn't hurt anymore. All emotions gone, all that's left are the ashes of my hopes, fears, loves, and I'm left hollow and I can't wait to return to my dreams, to an eternal sunshine of a spotless mind...


	2. A Past Not All Forgotten

A Past Not All Forgotten

_"Mommy, mommy look at me, I'm swinging real high..."_

That night I woke up in a cold sweat, it was the first time in months that I saw anything in my dreams besides colors. It was a memory from a long time ago, when I was 6 and I was in my favorite park with my mother. She'd just taught me how to swing and it was all I could do to not explode with joy. I miss those days, the days before she left. She seemed to love me, and so did my father. I still can't grasp why they both left me that day... She said she was going to the bathroom, but she never came back... neither of them came back, my mother and father both left. I don't know when they met after she abandoned me at the park, but they did. I was 6 and it was the last time I felt love. The last time I would let myself feel love, until her...

Until she walked into my life like no bodies business...I was content with my life, after years and years of different foster homes I escaped the system at 18. Put myself through school, while working two part time jobs just to get by. I was 23 and she was 22, she was...beautiful. I knew when I first saw her that she was new to town; she was working in Aroma, a little café I went to every day for lunch. I remember sitting at the counter, her walking up to me, and when she looked into my eyes everything stopped... All I could hear was the beating of my heart, my breathing, her breathing, and those eyes I could have died a happy man at that moment. They were pools of faith, and mirrors to a beautiful soul. With one look I could see who she was, it surprised me at first, and I'd never come across a person so open...


	3. Denial Makes a Man Happy

Denial Makes a Man Happy

She amazed me in more ways than one, everything she said, did, was special even magical. She brought a meaning to my life that was never there before. After my parents had left me, I swore to need no on but myself, and that worked for me. For years after I relied on only myself to go on. I found happiness in that, peace of mind. The monkey was gone and my back free of burden, free of worry that I would be abandoned once again. There was no one who could leave me, because I was alone, and I wouldn't leave myself it wasn't possible or so I'd thought...

Eventually, I came to rely on her. She became an important part of my life. I needed her more and more each day. And that scared me more than I'd like to admit. When the realization she'd become a factor in my life, my being, a very significant one at that, hit I didn't know what to do with myself. I my vow was broken and it sent me spiraling out of orbit. So I did the only thing I could think of, that only thing that would set me back on kilter. I ran, told her what we hadn't been working and left.

I should have known she'd come after me. She was never the type to leave things unfinished. And to her this relationship wasn't, finished that is. It was just beginning...

We spent a total of two years together, and in those two years, we did more together than I'd done with anyone in my life. I grew to love her shortly after our first six months together. She and I formed a family, just the two of us. We were all the other needed to be happy. And I believed that fervently, I needed to believe it. Because otherwise, I wouldn't be able to live with myself, and I did, believe that, for a while...


End file.
